


Laure's Difficult Day

by Hekatonkheires



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Bestiality, Content approved by SCAR, M/M, Omorashi, Piss, Public Nudity, Public Sex, Shotacon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:40:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26362792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekatonkheires/pseuds/Hekatonkheires
Summary: Laure is eleven, and has difficulty controlling his bladder.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 205
Collections: Sin Corps





	1. Day 1, Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, for all of you who haven't guessed from the tags: this is just shameless, plotless, dirty kink-fic. Feel free to make suggestions in the comments for more situations Laure can be desperate in.

I woke up to sunlight streaming through my window. It was summer, and I didn't have lessons, so instead of getting out of bed right away I wriggled about to get more comfortable.

"Oh, no..." I whispered. The sheets under me were soaked through. So were my pyjama shorts. I threw back the covers and discovered a huge wet spot. Not again!

I had a bad habit: I wet the bed. It happened about once or twice a week, and nothing Sir or I did could stop it. I looked at the wet patch and sighed.

"Sir will be so disappointed..."

For whatever reason, I slept so deeply that I just didn't wake up when I needed a wee-wee. So my bladder let go, and I did a wee-wee in bed without ever waking up.

I ought to strip the bed and take the sheets downstairs to be washed. That was the deal I had with Sir: he wouldn't punish me if I took care of the sheets myself. He said I couldn't help wetting the bed, but I could help being slovenly.

But I had another problem: my little willy was sticking up through my sodden sleep shorts. This had happened more and more often recently: I would wake up with a stiffy that wouldn't go away until I touched it or Sir did.

I should be good and take my wet sheets down to the laundry room. First I took off my wet pyjama shorts. My stiff willy immediately sprang free and stuck out in front of me in a really obvious way. I stripped the sheets off my bed, even though my wee-wee was really hard and it made walking and leaning over awkward.

Maybe Sir will be in his study...I thought. I hoped. I went downstairs in just a t-shirt with the bundle of sheets in front of my crotch. Of course, Sir was at the breakfast table reading his newspaper.

"Good morning, Laure."

"Good morning, sir." I knew I was blushing. I couldn't do anything as Sir put down his paper and caught sight of my bundle of wet sheets.

"Oh dear. Had another little accident?"

I'd done quite a big wee-wee, actually.

"...Yes."

"Well, go and put those in the washing machine and then come and have breakfast. We've got fresh orange juice."

Sir knew how much I loved fresh orange juice. I shuffled towards the laundry room feeling a bit better. But once I'd put the sheets on to wash, I was uncomfortably aware of how obvious my stiffy was. Sir wouldn't mind me coming to breakfast like this, but he would tease me because he liked it when I was embarrassed. And the thought of Sir seeing me like this, with my stiff willy, made my problem even worse!

"Laure?" Sir called from the kitchen.

"Coming!"

So I shuffled back into the kitchen, unable to hide. Sir's gaze went immediately to my stiff wee-wee, then to my face.

"Here," he said. He passed me a glass of orange juice. Nervous and thirsty, I drained the glass. "I've made pain au chocolat, too." He nudged the plate towards me, and I happily took two. These were my favourite!

We ate breakfast in silence. I was focussed on the food, and Sir was focussed on the Times. Sometimes he frowned and made a note in pen in the margin. It looked so sophisticated, and I hoped that one day I would do the same. Whenever I tried to read a newspaper, I just got bored.

...I tried to ignore the fact that my wee-wee was still sticking up. At least Sir couldn't see it under the table.

When I'd finished inhaling the pain au chocolat, Sir looked over his paper and smiled at me. Then he reached under the table and fondled my crotch.

"Oh!" Sir's big, warm hand felt so good on my stiff little willy. Then he took his hand back and did something else under the table. I recognised the movement: he was taking his own thingy out of his boxer shorts.

"Get under the table, Laure," Sir murmured.

I slid out of my chair and to my knees on the tiled kitchen floor. Sir's big hard-on was right in front of my eyes. I could hardly believe that my little wee-wee would look like that one day. It was a proper grown-up's thingy, hard and thick.

Hesitantly, I leaned forward and kissed the tip. I licked the hole where the sperm comes out, and Sir sighed. I took the head into my mouth and licked hard. The head was all I could manage, but Sir always said that was fine.

"Mm, Laure, you've got good at this..." I loved it when Sir praised me.

I sucked at it and Sir's hand landed on my head, gently encouraging me. I sucked steadily, in little pulses, because I knew Sir liked that.

Sir grunted, and his thingy went stiff. I knew what that meant, so I was ready when come started spurting into my mouth. Ropes of salty white come spurted out of Sir's thingy into my mouth. I swallowed as fast as I could. Sir ruffled my hair.

"Well done, Laure. Up you get." Sir pulled me up and onto his lap. He could see that my willy was still sticking up. It always got big and stiff when I did things with Sir. "This is your reward, Laure."

He took my willy in his big hand and started slowly stroking it, moving the foreskin back and forth over the head. This was worth the wait: it felt better than anything I could do with my own hand. Sir knew how my body worked better than I did, and with only his hand he could make me nearly cry with how good it felt.

"What a good boy you are, Laure," he murmured in my ear.

He kissed me deeply on the mouth as he pulled at my little thingy, pushing his tongue into my mouth and licking all around. I love it when Sir kisses me. His big mouth is so hot, and he knows just how to stroke my tongue with his. My willy felt tingly and tickly, like I had to go wee-wee.

"Sir!" I gasped.

I came, my legs jerking in Sir's lap. I only made a few little spurts of clear stuff, not like the gobs of white come that came out of Sir's penis. Sir held me close and kissed me some more, slowly and tenderly. But a few seconds later, I realised that I had another need.

"Sir...I need to do a wee-wee."

"Is it urgent?"

I could feel some pressure in my bladder, but not loads. So I said,

"No, it's not too bad." It was the truth, at the time.

"Then I'd like you to hold it for five minutes, OK? Let me finish reading the paper." Sir indicated the crossword page he was on.

"OK, Sir." I would do my best! So Sir picked up The Times again, with me still curled up in his lap.

At first, it was fine. I was a little bit uncomfortable, but it was bearable. I could wait. But then the urge got worse. I tried to squeeze my willy between my thighs to help a little.

"You're squirming a lot, Laure." Of course Sir had noticed.

"Sorry, Sir. I really need a wee-wee now." I always found it so hard to hold it!

"You can hold your penis if that would help," Sir suggested.

I quickly grabbed my soft willy and held onto it. Squeezing it helped the urge to pee. I could feel the pressure building up at the base of my willy. This was a problem I'd had for years: once I got the urge to do a wee-wee, the need grew and grew quickly until I absolutely had to find a toilet or I'd go wee-wee in my pants. I was usually quick enough to get to the toilet, but I had had a few accidents before now!

It felt really urgent now, and I had to squeeze my willy firmly so I didn't leak.

"Only two more minutes now, Laure," Sir reminded me. "You can hold it, can't you?"

"Yes, sir."

I did my best, but I wasn't sure I could hold on! My bladder felt completely full and it ached. My little willy throbbed with how badly I needed a wee-wee. I wished so badly I'd gone when I woke up that morning - I knew I needed to go, even if I didn't feel like there was anything to come out, but I'd been so embarrassed about wetting the bed again that I'd forgotten.

"One minute left. Fifty-nine seconds..." Sir started counting down as I squirmed desperately on his lap. I squeezed my willy harder and wriggled my legs to try and relieve the pressure.

"S-sir, I can't hold it!"

"Forty-two, forty-one..."

I writhed frantically, desperate not to embarrass myself by losing control of my bladder.

"Please, I need to go wee-wee!"

"Thirty-one, thirty..."

"Ah! I can't hold it!" A spurt of wee made it out of my willy. "Ahhhhhhhhhh!" I couldn't hold it any more! I was going to do a wee-wee in Sir's lap!

A stream of pee suddenly came out, spurting forcefully onto the kitchen floor as I clutched at my little willy and wailed. I totally lost control! All the wee-wee sprayed out and I made a huge puddle on the floor.

"Sir, I'm sorry..." A stream of wee-wee was still coming out of my willy. "I just couldn't hold it!"

"I know, Laure." Sir didn't seem angry or disappointed, which helped me not feel totally humiliated. "I wanted to check how long you could hold it. Not quite five minutes, apparently." Now I felt really embarrassed. What eleven-year-old boy can't hold his wee for more than five minutes?

"I'll clean it up," I offered meekly as the last of the stream dribbled out of my thingy, but Sir shook his head.

"I'll do that while you're getting ready. Today, Laure, we're going to work on your control. I've got some business in town, and you'll come with me."

"Yes, sir." What could he mean about working on my control? I'd been told that control over my bladder would come with age, and we already practised having me hold it until I couldn't any more.

"Run upstairs and get ready, now - but remember it's a no-clothes day. T-shirt only."

"Yes, sir..." I'd only ever had one no-clothes day before, and it was really embarrassing - people had stared and made comments about my bum and little wee-wee! It wasn't like you never saw boys outside in not very much, but it was so humiliating to be the object of it all the same.

"There's a lad." Sir gave me a kiss on the forehead, then went to clean up the floor and the breakfast things.

As I turned to leave the kitchen, I realised that I was thirsty again. It would make me need a wee-wee sooner, but I was thirsty, and I didn't want to get dehydrated. I got myself a glass of water and leaned against the counter to drink it while Sir stacked the dishwasher. Then I went upstairs to get ready for the day.

I showered, but I only put on a long t-shirt since Sir had told me it was a no-clothes day. I think he said that so if I couldn't hold it again, I wouldn't get my clothes wet. My face burned as I realised that I might wet myself today - in public! That was even more embarrassing than going out wearing no clothes! My mind spun with all the places I might end up desperate for a wee-wee. In the street, in a store, in a cafe...


	2. Day 1, Part 2

We set off for the cafe in Sir's car. The leather seat felt weird under my naked bum. At least Sir had let me wear a t-shirt! Outside the window, fields whizzed by. I was starting to regret drinking that water, because I could feel a familiar pressure building up in my bladder.

"Um, Sir," I spoke up shyly, "I need a wee-wee."

"Not right now, Laure: hold it until we get to the cafe." Sir, focussed on the road, didn't even look at me.

So I held it for the rest of the drive. I crossed my legs, trapping my willy between my thighs, and that helped me not need to go wee-wee as bad.

It wasn't too bad, but as we parked up the urge suddenly grew stronger, and I had to squeeze my willy before I could stand up.

"Sir, I'm really feeling it..."

"Just a little longer. The cafe's not far."

So we trotted through town. It was a quiet morning, and I was glad that not too many people were around to see me dressed in only a t-shirt, my little willy hanging free. Once or twice, when I thought nobody was looking, I gave my wee-wee a quick squeeze. I felt weird walking through the town with nothing on apart from my t-shirt, and I kept trying to pull the hem down to hide my crotch. I was very aware of my little wee-wee swinging free between my thighs.

Outside the cafe, there was a bush. I've often seen dogs using it as a toilet while their owners are talking. I was about to hurry inside to the toilet, but Sir stopped me.

"S-sir, I've got to do a wee-wee..."

"Here, if you please."

"What? Outside?"

"Specifically, on the bush."

"But Sir, everyone will see me!"

"There's not that many people about."

"Uhhhh..."

Everybody would see me making wee-wee in public...but I really needed to go! What was the best way to do this? I would just have to lift up my shirt and go, I guessed. I shuffled closer and closer to the bush, then pulled the hem of my t-shirt out of the way with one hand and pointed my willy with the other.

For a long moment, nothing came out, even though I could feel the wee-wee pushing at the base of my willy.

"Are you sure you need to go, Laure?"

"Yes! This is just...really embarrassing..."

I managed to untense enough that I could let go a little trickle. Then it was like a dam burst, and a full stream started up. My cheeks were burning. I couldn't believe I was doing a wee-wee outside, in front of people! But I did feel better for letting go and letting the wee out.

We went into the cafe, my cheeks still bright red. The waitress came up to us to take us to a table, and I just knew she'd seen me having a wee-wee outside. I couldn't look her in the eye!

At least when I sat down, I could cover my bits with my t-shirt and stop exposing my bum. No matter how many times Sir took me out into town without enough clothes on, I never stopped being embarrassed about it. Of course you saw other boys exposed like I was, it was perfectly legal - but I still associated it with being punished.

Sir ordered me juice. He knew what I liked. I started to relax, despite the strange feeling of the fake leather seat against my bare backside. It was just like a normal cafe visit.

"There's a client I'm seeing in about fifteen minutes. I know you know how to behave."

"Sir," I agreed. I was fuzzy on the specifics of what Sir actually did for a living. It seemed to involve his laptop, spreadsheets, and a lot of telephone calls. I was used to coming with him to meet clients sometimes, and entertaining him while he waited.

Sir had his newspaper still, but he put it aside and we talked instead.

"I was thinking that tonight, if you're good, we might play Settlers of Catan. Maybe you could invite one of your schoolfriends."

"Yes!" I loved boardgames, and so did Sir, so we had a great time playing together. One of the nicest things about Sir was that I always felt comfortable with him, even when he was making me do humiliating things.

The client, when he turned up, was nondescript: one of the many middle-aged men Sir dealt with. They shook hands and started talking over my head. I played with my straw and looked around the cafe in search of entertainment. Sometimes you could listen in on people's conversations or watch them; but everybody here was either absorbed in a screen or talking too quietly for me to hear. Boring.

Unfortunately, my drink came back to haunt me in the usual way. I could feel my bladder filling quickly and the urge to make wee-wee build at the base of my willy. Sir was deep in conversation with his client. I couldn't interrupt, but...I needed to go. I wriggled in my seat. Through the window I saw a dog lift its leg and do a wee on the bush outside the cafe, which didn't help my need. Sir and the client were talking about 'grouse', which I was pretty sure was a type of bird you ate.

"Sir...I really need to go to the toilet."

"What for?"

"I need to do a wee-wee, Sir."

"Just go here, Laure."

I couldn't believe Sir was telling me to just do a wee-wee right here! We were in public! I couldn't go wee-wee on the floor of the cafe! But, I realised as my need grew more urgent and my bladder and willy throbbed, I might just have to. Sir clearly wasn't going to let me go to the toilet...so the only option was going to the toilet right here.

"Sir...it's so embarrassing."

I scooted to the edge of my seat and let my soft little willy dangle over the edge. Was I really going to sit here in the middle of a crowded cafe and have a wee-wee on the floor? I took a deep breath and tried to relax my bladder. All the muscles in my lower body were tense from holding it.

"...Nh."

It was so difficult to deliberately do a wee-wee in public! I'd only managed to do it on the bush because there was nobody about. With strangers all around me, it was impossible. After a long moment, I managed to let out a little tinkle. It spattered loudly on the floor. Some people turned round to look. I covered my face with my hands. I couldn't do this! It was too embarrassing!

Even worse, all my straining to make wee-wee were making my willy stiff. I tried to point it downwards under the table, but all I managed was to squeeze out a couple more drops as it got hard in my hand. Now there was no way I could go! But my bladder and little willy throbbed with the need for a wee-wee.

"I see we need to loosen you up," Sir said. He casually undid his trousers and pulled out his big, hard thingy.

"Come and sit on my lap, Laure." He was smearing Vaseline on his wee-wee as he said it, so I knew what he meant. It was difficult to get up with my bladder complaining that it was full, but I managed to awkwardly clamber into his lap. He held his thingy steady as I positioned my hole just over the tip.

Sir kept discussing grouse with Mr. A as I let my weight push me down onto the head of his huge wee-wee. His thingy filled me up completely! His thingy pressed hard on my bladder, squeezing further and further in.

"Sir...there's no room inside me." But my body kept taking more and more of Sir's big thingy. It felt massive, but I'd managed to fit it a couple of times before. But I was so tight because I was keeping the wee-wee inside!

"Relax, dear." Sir was very gentle with me, but his erection relentlessly opened me up. Oh, how was I going to cope? I needed to go wee-wee so badly!

"Sir, I'm so full!"

"Laure, you're drawing attention." Another inch slid inside me, and I whimpered. The knowledge that all the people in the cafe could see and hear what we were doing was beyond humiliating. Sir hushed me gently. Finally, I felt my bum settle on his pelvis as he managed to push his whole thingy inside me.

"There, doesn't that feel good?" Sir murmured in my ear. "I know you like it deep."

"Sir..." I was so tight and tense from holding in the pee sloshing around in my bladder that I couldn't relax to make things easier for myself. Sir started to move me in his lap, making me cry out as my stiff willy jerked and bounced. He was so deep inside me, and I was caught between the amazing feeling of Sir's thingy and my need to make wee-wee.

"Ahh!" I came, a couple of clear droplets dribbling out of my willy to land on the floor.

"Sir, I'm going to-!" Sir's huge wee-wee pushed so hard on my bladder that suddenly I couldn't hold it any longer. I let go, like the wee-wee was being forced out by Sir's thingy!

"Please, I can't..." A dribble of wee-wee escaped my soft willy, followed by a jet that spattered loudly on the floor of the cafe. Then I couldn't hold it at all: my bladder gave out and it all came gushing out at once, spraying out of my willy. A fountain of wee sprayed out of my deflating stiffy, making a huge puddle on the floor. I did a huge wee-wee on the floor of the cafe!

Sir started thrusting his hips upwards while I was making wee-wee, making the stream spray all over the floor. He bounced me on his thingy, stroking me deep inside with it. Suddenly he went still and groaned in my ear! He was coming inside me! Sir held me close as his willy shot sperm deep inside me.

"Excuse me," said Sir to his client. His arms were tightly clasped around me, and he wasn't taking his softening thingy out of me.

"No, no," said the client vaguely. He was staring at me, still sitting in Sir's lap. My face was burning. "Not at all."

"It happens, sweetheart," the waitress told me sympathetically as she wielded the mop. I could have died of mortification. Sir and the client had gone back to discussing things I didn't understand. I nestled closer to Sir, and hid my face in his neck. This was the most embarrassing thing Sir had _ever_ made me do.

Little did I know what was to come...


	3. Day 1, Part 3

There was a big park just on the edge of our town, and I liked to go there to run around and play football. It was a nice early summer's day, so even in only a t-shirt I wasn't too cold. I was slightly less embarrassed about my exposure than I had been earlier, because doing a wee on the floor of a cafe had been so utterly humiliating that walking around with my little thingy hanging out seemed like a breeze in comparison.

There were some boys playing football today, though nobody I recognised. There were also people walking and playing with their dogs. Sir had always firmly rejected my pleas for a dog, so I had to get my fix of petting other people's. I loved Golden Retrievers best.

"I'm going to sit here in the sunshine with a book," Sir said to me. "You know the rules: you can run around here and do what you like, but don't leave my sight."  
I hadn't played football in ages! I wasn't that good, but neither were any of the other boys, so it was fine. Nobody said anything about how they could see my little wee-wee dangling under my t-shirt, even though they were all in shorts.

We played for a long time, and eventually I got that tickling sensation at the base of my willy that meant I needed to make wee-wee.

Sir was reading his book, like he'd said. He always dressed smartly, even when he wasn't going to meet a client - he always wore shirts with buttons. The sun glinted off his wire-rimmed glasses. They made him look older, which I only remembered when he took them off for bed.

I was fidgeting with the hem of my t-shirt, trying to pull it down further.

"Please, sir...I need a wee-wee. Please may I go to the toilet?"

"Certainly. Where do you want to go?"

"Park toilets? I know they're grim, but..." Any toilet would do. I was tall enough to use the urinals now.

I guess my barely suppressed pee-pee dancing told Sir all he needed to know, because he said,

"Of course, Laure."

And so we headed off towards the park toilets, me in the lead. I didn't want to hold my willy in public if I could avoid it!

The men's park toilets were exactly as yucky as I'd expected. But what I hadn't expected was the man inside, leaning against the wall and casually stroking his stiff thingy. I made a little sound of surprise.

"Don't let me stop you," said the man, lazily. He hadn't stopped touching himself.

I didn't really want to have a wee-wee with this man watching me, but I really needed to go, so I hurried over to the boys' urinals and pointed my willy.  
I could feel the man watching me as I started to go wee-wee.

The thing is, I have a problem. When I get nervous, I need to wee-wee. But I also can't do a wee-wee! The stream of wee-wee trickled to a stop as I got more and more nervous and my willy started to get stiff.

"Don't watch me!"

"Is that the problem? Sorry, darling." He said that with complete insincerity. He was still staring.

I strained desperately to push more wee-wee out of my willy, but nothing came out. Instead, my willy only got stiffer!

"D-Don't look!"

"Why? It looks good." He was still playing with his thingy. He was looking at me like he was thinking about putting it inside me.

"Laure? You've been a while." Sir rounded the wall of the toilets, and took in the scene. Me, standing at the urinal, stiffening willy in hand and tears coming to my eyes; and the stranger watching me.

Sir sighed.

"Here, I'll help."

And Sir unzipped his trousers and pulled out his own thingy, which was stiff and huge. From his pocket he took a tube of Vaseline and smeared it over his hard-on. I realised that this was going to be a repeat of the cafe. At least this was in a toilet, and only one stranger would witness me totally losing control of my bladder.

"Brace yourself on the wall, Laure," Sir said mildly. He never shouted. He never needed to.

I placed both my hands flat on the wall. I knew what was coming, and my tummy trembled. Sure enough, Sir pressed the tip of his hard-on to my bumhole. I tried to relax. I trusted Sir not to hurt me, but I was scared that as soon as he started putting it in, I'd lose it and start peeing.

It felt massive, but I'd managed to fit it a few times before, even just this morning. But I was so tight because I was keeping the wee-wee inside!  
"Relax," Sir murmured in my ear. I tried.

Slowly, he started to push his thingy inside me. It felt huge, like a rounders bat being shoved inside me, and I couldn't believe it would ever fit.

"Please, I'm so full!" Between the wee-wee and Sir's thingy, it felt like there was no room left inside me. My bladder twinged, and I desperately tried to clamp down, making my little willy jerk.

"Don't worry, that's good. It'll help you push the pee out."

Another inch slid inside me, and I whimpered.

"Sir...there's no room inside me..." My willy was too stiff to let the wee-wee out, but it still felt like it might come out any minute.

"Shhh, shhh." Sir's erection opened me up mercilessly while I struggled. Finally, I felt his balls against my thighs as his whole thingy pushed into me.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Sir's voice in my ear was breathless.

"Sir..." I was really tight, and I could feel everything, every throb of his hard-on. It felt way too big to fit, but it was all the way in!

He started to thrust vigorously in and out, making me cry out as my stiff willy jerked and bounced. Everything felt so much more intense than usual! I was so tense with trying to hold it in that I couldn't relax.

"You're doing very well," Sir coaxed. He pulled me back and thrust in deeply, and all my nerve endings up my bum lit up. My stiffy throbbed.

"Ahh!" I gasped as orgasm tore through me. My little cock didn't even let anything out - after I'd come that morning, I didn't have anything left.

"Please, I can't..." I could feel my bladder about to give out. I was going to wee on the floor again!

"A little - more..." Sir's voice was laboured. His huge hard-on rubbed everywhere inside me.

Sir kept bouncing me on his hard thingy as I did my best to hold my wee-wee, thrusting hard, until he suddenly went still and groaned in my ear. He was coming inside me!

Sir held me close as his wee-wee shot sperm deep inside me. I could feel it throbbing, thrust so deeply inside me that I was afraid I would be stuck on it. After a moment, he pulled me gently away from the wall. The movement jolted my overtaxed bladder.

"S-Sir!" I couldn't hold it any more! It was all going to come out!

Sir's fingers took hold of my little willy and pointed it at the urinal just as my bladder overflowed and I started going wee-wee. I gasped and my legs trembled as the hot stream poured out of me.

We left the park toilets, Sir looking pristine as usual, and me with Sir's come dribbling out of my bumhole and down my inner thighs. I knew people were looking. It must have been super obvious what we'd just been doing. The strange man in the toilets had thanked us before we left, his hand working his thingy faster.

After that, I would have been happy to go straight home. But Sir said we still had things to do in town, so we stayed. It wasn't anything exciting: just some errands. We went to the bank, to the post office, and so on. But we didn't do any of it very fast, when usually Sir was impatient to get on with things and keep moving. It was a nice day, with plenty of sunshine that kept me warm despite being half-naked. But I still thought that Sir might be stalling deliberately.

It was inevitable: I was going to need the toilet again. Especially after Sir said,

"Heavens, what good weather we're having. Laure, how about a cold drink? I don't want you getting dehydrated."

It wasn't _that_ hot. But I was thirsty, and by now I'd picked up on Sir's unusually leisurely pace and what that probably meant. And I _did_ love Lucozade. Sir said that was because it was all sugar, so I wasn't allowed it very often.

I held on as long as I could. I shouldn't have done: it was stupid, and made it all the more likely that I would have an accident. But after the several accidents I'd already had today, I was so embarrassed that I could barely imagine telling Sir that I needed to go again. I wished fiercely for proper control over my bladder.

Sir noticed me starting to look uncomfortable before I could work up the courage to say anything. I was just starting to get uncomfortably full, and wishing I could reach down and give my willy a quick squeeze.

"We need to go to the department store - there are toilets in there, if you want."

"...Yeah. Thank you, sir." I should have known better than to try to hide it. The department store - it had a name, but nobody ever used it - was almost on the other side of town. Luckily the town was only small, so it wasn't such a long walk. But the state I was in...

"Are you sure you'll make it?"

"I-I'll try."

So we set off, me in front, trying not to make it too obvious that I needed a wee-wee. I was very aware of how my little willy was visible under the hem of my t-shirt.

I tried to squeeze it a bit between my thighs as we walked in the direction of the high street. It didn't really work, but I didn't want to walk through town holding it in my hand unless I was absolutely desperate. It made me look like a baby who couldn't hold it. I had to admit, even though it was embarrassing, it was probably a good thing that Sir had said I couldn't wear anything on my bottom half - I would only have got it wet by now.

It seemed to take an age to reach the public toilets. You don't realise just how few there are until you're desperate to use one. It couldn't even have been that long, only a couple of minutes of walking - but as we'd confirmed this morning, I couldn't reliably hold it for more than five minutes, and I'd already been really feeling the need to go before I told Sir. The pressure was building at the base of my willy.

"Sir, please walk a bit faster!" I was openly squeezing my wee-wee by now, in the hopes that I wouldn't DO a wee-wee in the middle of town. I could feel the pee sloshing around in my bladder and pressing at the bottom of my willy. I was really getting desperate! What if I didn't make it?

Suddenly, a little bit escaped and dribbled down my thighs.

"S-sir, I don't think I'm going to make it!"

Another spurt of wee came out of my willy, bigger than the last one. I knew people were staring.

"Uhhhhhh~!"

I stopped dead in the street and squeezed my little willy with both hands, jiggling from foot to foot, desperately trying not to wet myself. I couldn't do a wee-wee in the street! It was broad daylight and there were people about!

But it was too much. The pressure in my bladder overwhelmed me and I could feel the pee rushing down my willy.

I turned and dashed for a little side street, clutching desperately at my willy, as the wee-wee burst out of me, a thick stream hissing and spattering on the pavement as I ran. I tried to hide what was happening, but my willy was spurting wee-wee all over as I ran and by the time I'd gone far enough down the alley, the damage was done.

Passers-by were looking at me curiously as I finally aimed the stream of pee into a dark corner. I hid my burning face and tried to pretend I was elsewhere, and that I really had held it until I could get to a toilet. Not surprisingly, it didn't work. Sir was just behind me, and I mumbled,

"Sorry, sir...I just couldn't hold it."

"I can see that."

Sir didn't sound angry, but I still felt totally humiliated. I'd just peed all over the street like a baby because I couldn't control my bladder. Sir must have been able to tell, because as he ushered me out of the alley, he took my hand, and held it all the way to the car.


	4. Day 2, Part 1

I woke up to a wet bed, again.

Actually, I woke up mid-wee. I didn't realise at first, even though I really should have. I just thought I was warm. But then I moved my leg and realised the sheets were wet, and then I pushed back the covers and found that I was still doing a wee-wee! I must have done most of it in my sleep, but the last of it was dribbling out of my little willy. So that was humiliating, as always. I had to get out of bed and strip the sheets and my underwear, like yesterday, feeling glad of the plastic mattress protector. Sir was always so understanding of my occasional night-time accidents, but after my public humiliation yesterday, I was feeling quite sensitive. I couldn't believe I'd done a wee-wee in the street, in front of all those people!

Sir wasn't in the kitchen this time as I dutifully carried the bundle of bedding down to the washing machine, though the coffee pot on the table was full and everything was set out for breakfast. I put some bread in the toaster and poured some orange juice, even though I knew it would soon make me need to go again. I couldn't just not drink. I squeezed my little wee-wee between my thighs briefly, hoping that next time I would make it to the toilet.

Sir came in, and bent down for his morning kiss. His cheek was so smooth that he must have just been in the bathroom, shaving. He wasn't dressed yet, just in his boxers and a t-shirt, and his thingy was hard and poking out through the slit. Every time I saw Sir's thingy, I was amazed at its size all over again. It seemed impossible that mine would ever look like that. Or that I would ever be so confident about it - Sir was totally casual about his massive hard-on even when he took it out in public for me, whereas when I'd had to go out yesterday in a long t-shirt with no pants I'd been deathly embarrassed.

"Morning, Laure. Sleep well?"

"Morning. Yes, sir." I didn't mention my accident: the sounds of the churning washing machine spoke for themselves, as did my state of undress below the waist.

Sir busied himself with pressing down the plunger of the coffee pot and pouring it. I thought even the smell of coffee was nasty, but Sir assured me I'd think differently one day. He sat opposite me with his paper and his coffee, like every morning, while I went and fetched my toast and put on butter and apricot jam. I noticed, while I was eating it, that Sir's hand was casually stroking his hard thingy.

"Laure, would you mind..." Sir made a vague gesture, but I knew what he meant. I'd finished my breakfast, so I rinsed my plate and washed my hands, then went over to him and took hold of his hard-on. It pulsed in my hand.

Sir went back to perusing the newspaper as I started stroking his thingy. It was so big in my small hand that I had to use both hands. It was smooth and hot, the velvet foreskin over steely hardness, and I loved getting the chance to touch it. I was so lucky to live with Sir!

I worked Sir's erection in long strokes, just how I knew he liked it. I always did my best to make Sir feel really good. It was only fair when he did the same for me, after all. I still sometimes felt shy about putting it in my mouth, but Sir always told me how much he enjoyed it when I sucked his thingy, so I didn't mind the funny taste.

Sir's thighs began to tense. I loved that I could tell when he was about to come, and I loved the feeling of his body tensing up, because it meant I was making him feel good. Bringing Sir to orgasm made me feel so proud! Sir put his hand on my cheek, and I leaned into it. His breathing was unsteady. My wee-wee was hard now too, and I squeezed my thighs together. I wouldn't touch it until Sir gave me permission.

Sir's thingy suddenly got really hard in my hand. I knew what was coming, and worked it faster.

Sir came loads, all over my hands and over my t-shirt. He always came loads. I looked forward to the day when I could come like that, all that white stuff shooting out of my willy instead of the few clear drops I got now.

Sir's thumb stroked my cheek, and he smiled at me. He looked a little bit flushed. I was still holding his softening thingy in my hand, and I leaned in to lick the tip of it clean, where I'd smeared it with his semen. Sir let me get on with it while still petting my cheek, until finally he was clean again and I tucked his thingy back inside his boxers. Before I could move from between Sir's spread legs back to my chair, Sir caught my wrist and looked meaningfully at my hard thingy standing straight out between my legs.

"Go on, Laure," Sir encouraged me, "you've been very good."

I took my little willy between forefinger and thumb and started to stroke it quickly. It never took me any time at all to come. Sir said that was normal, and my stamina would improve with age. But I and he liked that I could come in a couple of minutes, and then twenty minutes later be ready to go again.

Sir reached into his dressing gown pocket and withdrew something pink.

"Keep going," he reminded me when I stopped masturbating upon seeing what it was. It was a plug, made of pink silicone, that was made to go up my bottom. I knew because I'd had it up me before. I'd enjoyed it.

As I watched, Sir quickly smeared a bit of jelly on the plug, and reached around to press the tip of it to my bumhole. That was almost enough to set me off! I was so sensitive there, and as the plug easily parted my hole, I let out a little gasp.

"We're going to work on your control today," Sir told me. His big hand continued gently working the plug into my bottom. I trembled, and kept pumping my stiff little willy. The urge to come was building in me - it always felt like the urge to pee, and sometimes I wasn't sure whether I was about to come or do a wee-wee! I knew from unfortunate experience that although getting a stiffy helped me hold in my wee-wee, it didn't stop it from spurting out if I really couldn't hold it anymore.

Once the plug was fully inside me, it only took Sir wiggling it around a little to make me come. My belly clenched with the base of my willy, and I shuddered through a nearly dry orgasm. Just a few droplets came out of my little willy to spatter on the kitchen floor.

By the time we'd cleaned up and cleared away the breakfast things and Sir was dressed, I needed a wee-wee. Of course I did. But we were about to head out the door, and I was wondering whether I could nip to the downstairs toilet if I asked permission really nicely?

I didn't get the chance to say anything: Sir could tell from my uncomfortable shifting about.

"We might as well get you used to it. Let's start small - just go right here, in the garden." Sir ushered me out of the house and locked the front door behind us.

In the front garden? We lived on a quiet street, but the wall was low and any passer-by and anybody looking out their window could see! I could feel myself blushing.

Still, I'd had to go in public in far worse places just yesterday. So I lifted the hem of my t-shirt, squatted down on the grass so I would get a little more privacy, and tried to let go.

It was really difficult, even though I really did need to make wee-wee! I was just so nervous about anybody passing by and seeing me with my willy out, having a tinkle on the grass. It was somehow more embarrassing than the neighbours seeing me playing naked in the garden, which I often did, as if the t-shirt just made it more obvious that I was nude below it.

My bladder twinged. I took a couple of deep breaths and deliberately relaxed where my body was trying to hold it in. After a moment, a little trickle made its way out of my willy. And then it was like a dam had been opened, and I started doing a proper wee-wee. It came out of my in a strong hissing stream and flooded into the grass as I watched it between my legs.

It didn't take long for me to empty out. I got to my feet quickly, my cheeks hot. All yesterday I'd been having accidents, but crouching down to have a wee-wee in the front garden deliberately somehow seemed naughtier.

"Good boy," Sir praised me, and bent to kiss my cheek. I preened under Sir's attention.

And then Sir was unlocking the car, and just like yesterday I slid in so my bare bum was on the cool leather seat, and thought about all the things that might happen today...


	5. Day 2, Part 2

I kept squirming during the car ride into town. The plug made it impossible for me to find a comfortable position. If I wasn't careful, it pressed against things inside me and the vibration of the car travelled right through it, making my willy get big. The powerful engine made the plug throb in my bum, teasing me inside. My willy was completely stiff, but I couldn't touch it with Sir right there, since he hadn't given me permission.

"I trust you can be good, Laure." Sir's voice was gentle, but serious.

"...Yes, sir."

I really wanted to touch myself, but I would prove to Sir that I could follow instructions!

My wee-wee didn't go down when Sir parked the car and we got out, so I had to walk through town with it pointing out in front of me. People definitely noticed, even though I kept trying to pull the hem of my shirt down. I knew they could see the bright pink plug up my bumhole, too!

When I walked, the plug pressed against something inside me that made my wee-wee feel good. My bottom was really sensitive, and normally I liked it, because it made it feel amazing when Sir put his thingy inside me; but now it meant that I was being stimulated with every step I took.

We got all the way to the office where Sir was meeting a client before I started to get used to the feeling of my wee-wee throbbing every time the plug bumped that sensitive spot inside me. It was starting to feel really good, and I had to bit my lip not to gasp. What if I came just from the plug up my bum? I didn't think I could do that, but my little willy was really hard and I had all those tingles in my belly like I was going to come.

The carpet of the office hallway was a welcome change from the pavement. The client looked like most of Sir's clients - male, tweed jacket, red trousers. I was introduced to him, but I only managed to mumble something in greeting which was probably quite rude, because I was too distracted by my predicament and how Mr Wright's eyes looked me up and down with lascivious approval. I had to arrange myself very carefully in the chair next to Sir so I wasn't sitting directly on the plug and pushing it further inside me.

I don't really know what Sir does to make money. I know some of it comes from other money, and that his work involves talking to tweedy men and sometimes visiting places in the country - which I like because he takes me with him.

Sir and Mr Wright had been talking for - I don't know, a few minutes - when Sir broke off to say,

"Laure, come here, sweetheart."

Sir was opening his trousers and pulling out his thingy. Even soft, it was so much bigger than mine! I stood up and hissed as the movement jarred the plug inside me. When I'd been sitting down, I'd been able to calm down a bit, but now my stiffy came back full-force.

I stepped in between Sir's legs, as indicated, and let him turn me round so my back was to him. I felt his fingers on the plug and bit my lip again. Was Sir going to play with it in my bum? Then I would definitely come! Mr Wright was talking, but his eyes were fixed on my little wee-wee where it poked out from under the hem of my t-shirt.

Instead, Sir gently pulled the plug out of my bum. I gripped the edge of the desk and shivered as the plug teased at my sensitive rim. Then Sir pulled me down to his lap, so I could feel the tip of his big willy against my hole.

Sir started talking to Mr Wright as he pressed the tip of his thingy to my bumhole. It wasn't fully hard, but he pushed in an inch of it as I relaxed. I wanted to feel Sir's wee-wee getting big inside me! But I knew that wasn't why he was putting it up my bum. Sir wanted a different kind of relief. Sometimes Sir would put his thingy inside me when it was only half-hard all the way to the base and leave it there for a while, just because, and then it would get really stiff and Sir would start thrusting. I liked that. But he'd only put the tip in, so this was something else - something I found super embarrassing.

Sir took hold of my hips to keep me from pulling away - that would be messy. A warmth spread through my bottom, a liquid warmth, filling me up. Sir was going wee-wee in my bum. Wee-wee spurted out of his thingy inside me, and Sir sighed in relief. I gasped, because I couldn't help it. Sir had done this a few times before, but I was never prepared for the feeling of being peed in.

More and more wee-wee gushed into me, while Sir discussed grouse with Mr. Wright. His big hands held me steady as he filled me up. There was so much of it, and I moaned as I felt a little cramp starting.

But the stream quickly tapered off, and after a moment I was sure no more seemed to be coming out. I could feel my bumhole starting to leak a little bit, and whimpered. I knew Sir wouldn't want me to let it all out here!

"Very good, Laure." Sir stroked my stomach to comfort me. "Hold it for me, there's a good boy." And he very carefully eased his thingy out of me, but with the plug in his other hand.

As I'd expected, as soon as Sir's thingy slipped free, a trickle started down my thighs, even though I was clenching my bumhole as hard as I could! Sir's big hands were gentle as he immediately pushed the plug back into my bumhole.

"Now, go and let that out upstairs for me."

I struggled to stand, filled with Sir's wee-wee, but I managed to get off Sir's lap with wobbly legs. I felt very full, and I had to make my way to the door very carefully. I was so grateful that Sir wasn't going to make me walk through town like this! My sensitive hole was clenched tight around the plug, and to my embarrassment, my little willy hadn't gone down at all as Sir made wee-wee inside me.

Climbing the stairs was an ordeal. I'd take one step up and then gasp as the plug jarred that spot inside me. I clutched the bannister, but then I realised that the easiest way was to take the stairs on my hands and knees, like a dog. So I crawled up the stairs like that, with the base of the plug sticking out of my bumhole like a little tail.

Halfway up the stairs, my mouth was dry and my heart was pounding - and my little willy was absolutely throbbing. My balls were drawn up tight, and I had to stop and clutch at the stair carpet so I wouldn't come. I was so full, of Sir's urine and the plug, and everything inside me felt very sensitive and hot. I had that tight need-to-wee sensation that actually meant I was going to come (probably - I had been wrong before). I stayed there for a long moment, panting, trying to get myself under control.

I thought I had it when I started moving again, so I even stood up - but that was a mistake. The plug stroked me inside where I was sensitive, and my little willy jerked, and I had to put one hand between my legs to grab it because I was coming!

White-out pleasure shot through me and my little willy spurted some clear fluid as my body convulsed on the stairs. I lay there for a minute, trying to get myself under control again as the aftershocks went sparking through me.

At last, I got up and crawled the last few steps. I could see the toilet through an open door right ahead of me. Getting upright was a chore for my oversensitive body, but I managed.

I felt a bit better when I was sitting on the toilet. Working the plug out of myself made me flinch with overstimulation, but I did it. As it came free, a torrent of Sir's wee-wee gushed out of me.

I stayed there for a while, letting it all drain out of me. I imagined Sir sitting downstairs, still discussing work with Mr Wright. Then I rinsed my bottom carefully, and the plug too, before inserting the plug again. There was still enough lube for it to slide in smoothly.

I still felt a bit wobbly as I very carefully went down the stairs again. I felt overstimulated and sensitive inside, and although my little willy had softened, I still felt that clenching at the base as the plug gently and ruthlessly rubbed that spot just inside my bum that always made me see stars.

Sir and Mr Wright were still talking when I tiptoed shyly back into the room. Sir held out his arm, and I padded across to perch on his lap, with Sir's arm wrapped tightly, affectionately around my chest. It felt good to cuddle with Sir after how intense it had been, holding his wee-wee inside! Sir always knew when I needed a cuddle.

I closed my eyes and let my body go limp in his embrace, so I wouldn't jostle the plug or distract him while he was doing business. I still felt quivery inside, but it was more of a nice quivery feeling now.

By the time Sir stopped discussing whatever he was discussing, the men's deep voices drifting past my ears without comprehension, I had calmed down a lot. Mr Wright shook my hand as well as Sir's when we got stood to go, though he was still looking at me like he wanted to eat me. I was a bit surprised that Sir hadn't told me to sit on Mr Wright's lap, actually. Sir likes to be generous with me. And I'm not embarrassed about doing stuff with other people - I mean, I am at the start, but then when it starts to feel good, I stop minding. Sir says he likes that I'm so easy to please.

I put my small hand into Sir's bigger one as we walked, feeling the plug start to rub me again inside. I always felt very safe with Sir, even when he was asking me to do stuff that was scary or uncomfortable. Sir would never let me get hurt. Even when he told me to do things that were embarrassing, it was only for my own good - and almost every time, I ended up enjoying it. I would do anything to please Sir.


	6. Day 2, Part 3

There were a couple of parks in our medium-sized town, but the biggest was the one everybody meant when they said 'the park'. It was several acres of grass, with a bandstand and a cricket pitch and the river running through a corner where the bigger kids used to hide and play, and it was always full of people walking, sitting, eating, talking. And dogs!

I love dogs! Whenever Sir's sister comes round I get to play with her two massive wolfhounds. They're bigger than me, even bigger than her when they stand on their hind legs. They're both so perfectly trained, though. She always takes lots of photos of me playing with them - preferably without me wearing anything.

So I went to investigate the dogs. There was a man sitting on a bench while his daughter threw frisbees for their Golden Retriever. Eventually, the girl came and sat on the bench with her daddy, and the dog came up to me and pushed his cold wet nose into my hand.

"Hello! Oh, you're so soft..." The dog was eager to be petted, and his yellow-orange fur was wonderfully silky. He must be such a lot of work to brush, but he was so sweet that nobody could ever mind.

"Henry's a friendly sort, isn't he?" His owner smiled at us from where he sat, wrapping an affectionate arm around his daughter. Excited, Henry rolled onto his back to let me pet his soft tummy. I gasped.

"Wow, he's got a huge willy!" Henry's thing was poking out of its sheath. It was bright red! I had seen a dog's willy before, of course, but never this close up and outside the sheath. Henry was panting happily, tongue lolling out of his mouth as I stroked the silky fur of his belly.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Henry's owner sounded proud. "Would you like to touch it? Henry won't mind, I promise. He's got such a lovely nature."

I did want to, but I looked at Sir first, just in case.

"Go right ahead." Sir was sprawled quite comfortably on the grass, watching Henry and me. So I gently took hold of Henry's thing, wrapping my fist around it.

"It's so slippery!" Henry's tongue lolled out of his mouth as I slowly stroked his willy like I knew Sir liked it. It was thinner than Sir's, but much longer. It was so wet, wetter than Sir's got unless he'd come already. I liked it. Was it normal to like touching a dog's willy so much? Probably not.

"He really likes it if you put your hand right at the base and squeeze," Henry's owner suggested.

So I wrapped my hand around it, under the swelling at the bottom. Fluid leaked from the tip of Henry's penis as I squeezed. Abruptly, Henry wriggled and rolled over, dislodging my hand. He got up, and I leaned back. Had I been too rough?

"Oh, you've got him all worked up," his owner laughed. "He wants something more, now."

Henry padded around me and tried to push me forward, gently, with his paws and nose.

"Sir?!" I thought I could guess where this might be going...

"Relax, Laure. You'll enjoy this." Sir didn't sound concerned, so I did my best to relax. It was kind of scary, but...also kind of exciting. I'd long been interested in the willies of those huge wolfhounds, and now it was my chance to get up close and personal!

"Here," said Henry's owner, "get on all fours before Henry tries to knock you over. He's very gentle, but he might get a bit impatient now you've been teasing him."

Awkwardly, I leaned forward and got on my hands and knees, lifting my bum. Henry immediately started nosing at it. I wriggled. Then his broad flat tongue licked a stripe up my bumcrack, and I shrieked! Sir and Henry's owners laughed. It felt good, actually. I'd always been a bit embarrassed at having my hole licked, since it sounded like such a dirty thing to do: but I'd quickly grown to like it when Sir did it, and now Henry was really going for it, licking my hole in broad strokes that teased my sensitive rim but didn't go inside where I really wanted them.

"Sir, is he going to...?"

Suddenly, Henry reared up onto his hind legs and rested his front paws on my back. I felt my heart kick into overdrive. This was it! I had seen pictures of dogs mounting bitches, and of all sorts of animals mounting each other on wildlife programs. My favourites were the lions and other big cats - I had got such a stiffy from watching a lion mount a lioness and force his thingy inside her. And when we were out and about, once, we'd chanced on a few riders as we often did - and we caught them just at the moment when a stallion had his huge thingy extended all the way and was doing an enormous wee-wee! Sir had noticed, of course, and teased me about my shameless interest in animals and their thingies. So of course he'd known I would want to do this with Henry.

"Here we go, champ..." Henry's owner reached behind me and suddenly something wet was pressing against my bumhole. That was Henry's willy! Henry started pushing his big red willy into my bum!

"Aah, sir!" I gasped as the tapered tip slid inside me. It felt very different from Sir's thingy with its mushroom head.. Henry's paws were still on my shoulders for purchase as he pushed more of his willy inside me, and I could feel his doggy panting on the back of my neck.

Henry's willy was slick, so it went in easily. I let out little gasps as his thingy pushed inside my bumhole. It was so big, and it rubbed inside me as Henry started to make short thrusting motions, jolting me back and forth on the grass. I could see people watching us; watching me with a dog's willy up my bum.

Henry humped me vigorously, and I clutched at the grass. His willy thrust in and out of me. I was embarrassed to realise that I had a stiffy. It was one thing to like it when Sir did this kind of thing to me, but I was forced to confront the fact that my interest wasn't just normal academic - I was loving getting fucked by a dog. He pounded in and out of me, still panting, and his wild thrusts made my body light up. From the corner of my eye I saw somebody take out a camera, and I whimpered involuntarily. Even though I'd wanted it, to have a hard-on in front of all these strangers was so humiliating!

But ohhhh, it felt so good! There was no pain at all, just Henry's red doggy cock pistoning in and out of my little bumhole. My own little willy throbbed between my legs as he set up a rhythm that rubbed over that sensitive spot inside me and made me see stars. Then I felt something bumping against my hole - something big.

"Sir, he's trying to put his thing inside me!" I didn't know what it was, but it was really big! I could probably take it, but what if it hurt? I tensed, which only made the sensation more intense as Henry kept stirring my guts with his long thingy.

"It's called a knot. It's to tie with the bitch during mating. Just relax, dear, and it will fit." Sir still sounded so calm.

I whimpered, feeling Henry's knot slam repeatedly against my hole. My stiff wee-wee jerked. I was sure it wouldn't fit, but I could feel my bumhole opening a little more with every thrust. I bit my lip and tried to relax. I was still desperately turned-on despite my fear.

The knot stretched me further and further, getting a little further in each time, until it finally forced my hole so wide it couldn't stretch any more - and then the whole thing popped in.

"Ah!" My hole swallowed the knot so it was lodged inside me. I was tied to Henry! And Henry kept humping away at my bottom, making his knot move inside me and rub that sensitive place just inside my bumhole over and over, and I couldn't take it any more!

"Ahhh~!" I came suddenly, a few droplets of white stuff spurting out of my stiffy onto the grass. I could feel my willy twitching, still stiff, and my hole clenching around Henry's huge willy inside me. Henry whined and kept thrusting. It was too much! My sensitive parts were being relentlessly stimulated, and I couldn't come down from my orgasm - I just kept moaning and spasming as my willy jerked again and again, in what felt like a torturously extended orgasm. There was so much pressure behind my little wee-wee, I thought I was going to explode!

I was still shaking when I felt something else coming out, a familiar liquid feeling... "Oh no!"

Some wee-wee dribbled out. Then it quickly turned into a strong stream, making a puddle on the ground between my knees. Henry was still humping away behind me, making his knot move while it was trapped inside my bottom. I couldn't believe I was doing a wee-wee while a dog mounted me in public! I rested my head on my arms and tried to ignore where I was and all the people looking. Losing control of my bladder in public was way more embarrassing than being mounted by a dog!

Finally, Henry came to a stop, and I felt a warmth filling me. It must be Henry's come - and there was lots of it! So much more than I or even Sir could produce. He just kept coming and coming inside me, all of it kept locked inside me by the knot. I moaned and trembled as it stimulated my worn-out body even more. His knot was still pressing against my prostate, and every time he shifted slightly, it rubbed against it and sent little aftershocks of pleasure through me.

Footsteps beside me, and I looked up to find the legs of Henry's owner as he did something with Henry, moving him. After a moment of careful guidance, we were tied bum-to-bum, Henry's fluffy tail draped across my back and occasionally wagging.

It took a long time for Henry's willy to go down; long enough for the little crowd we'd gathered to disperse, though people walking by kept stopping to take pictures. I suppose it wasn't the sort of thing you normally saw in the park on a sunny afternoon. It was still embarrassing to be stared at, of course, but now that I was no longer having an accident, I felt a lot more sanguine about it. It was just like when Sir had me sit on his willy while we had ice-cream, really.

At last, Henry's willy slipped of my bumhole, accompanied by a slimy gush of doggy come. I felt my cheeks burning as it oozed down my inner thighs in a great flood.

"Good thing you haven't got any trousers to put back on," observed Sir coolly as he helped me to my feet. I was shaky after being on all fours for so long, and my knees ached from the ground. Despite that, I wouldn't have traded the experience for anything! "I see you enjoyed that," he added, as if he'd read my mind. I blushed again, but said,

"Sir, it was amazing!" The feeling of being totally dominated by a dog was one I wouldn't soon forget. Henry's cock had been so huge and felt so wonderful inside me. Even the knot, which I had initially baulked at, had turned out to make me feel like nothing else.

"Good, isn't it? I'll tell Annie that next time she comes over, the wolfhounds needn't be so polite."

I grinned stupidly with delight and endorphins. To be able to do that again but with a bit more privacy would be incredible! We left the park for home with Sir's arm wrapped warmly around my waist.


End file.
